


Adaar

by ponchard



Series: They Are All Real - Stories of Minor NPCs [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Aban aqun, Adaar - Freeform, Anaan esaam Qun, Ben-Hassrath, Berethlok, But the sea is changeless, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Chasind Sack Mead, Demands of the Qun, Fluff, Gaatlok, Gen, Hissrad, Horns Up, It means Liar, Keeper of Illusions, Liar, Maraas shokra, Meraad astaarit, Meraad itwasit, Qun, Qunari, Shok ebasit hissra, Struggle is an illusion, Tamassrans, The tide falls, The tide rises, There is nothing to struggle against, Victory is in the Qun, Viddathari, Well you don't have to say it like that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-21
Updated: 2015-03-21
Packaged: 2018-03-18 19:56:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3581916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ponchard/pseuds/ponchard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short little one-shot about saving the Chargers, because the Chargers are wonderful fluff-muffins. <3</p>
<p>Pay no attention to the suspicious amount of Qunlat in the tags. It is coincidence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Adaar

My hands seemed clumsy and distant as I loosened the toggle on my packet. A few rows away from me, Rasi was still weaving through the ranks, shouting for status. But we could all see it. Didn't need Rasi's training for that.

"Down!"

"Mine is down!"

"Breached!"

Rasi quickly stepped over Eva and Shok. _The bodies that once held them,_ I corrected myself. Even from this distance, I could see the charring. I'd seen plenty of death as a mercenary, before I found purpose. _Purpose_ didn't change what had happened to them. Age was the tamassrans' concern, but they could not have been more than fifteen.

"Still live!" The owner of the cannon was... I couldn't recall his nickname. He sometimes shared his food with Rasi. Now, he was as calm as a dragon in her nest. Every motion precise, despite the hole a handsbreadth from his horns. But Rasi stopped him from packing the next shell. "Hold." Eyes narrowed, Rasi surveyed the rest of the deck, taking stock of the ragged holes and the smoking dead. "Hold!"

The surviving weapon specialists stilled. A fireball flared through one of the larger dents, scattering a whole unit. Without the sound of our cannons, I could hear the muffled pounding of more, endless more. Beside me, Meraad hissed. "Didn't I tell you?" I rolled my eyes. "Too many viddathari. Doesn't make sense." It _had_ seemed unusual when he first said it. For all the talk that converts were equals, dreadnoughts usually had more veterans. They were expensive vessels, and gaatlok could never fall into enemy hands. We were part of the Qun now, same as everyone. But the tamassrans weren't stupid.

"Remind me, what did I tell you?" 

"Meraad, they waste nothing. They didn't send us here to get rid of us."

"It isn't _waste_ to throw away refuse!"

And there it was again, that insecurity. Somehow he had gotten it into his head that he was terrible at his role, that he had started training too old. A tamassran snapped at him, once, for hesitation. He had concluded that he was an utter failure. Complete nonsense. He was a better navigator than anyone I'd traveled with.

"Yes, you're refuse, and the Arishok is a rough farmer, thrust into command!" I shot back. "Maybe this was simply a test. Have you considered that?"

"One we've failed." _A fair point._ I winced. _Good job drawing the attention to failure, there._ Meraad coughed against the smoke. It was getting heavier now, hotter. I couldn't even make out Rasi's slender form. Maybe it was burning already.

It wouldn't be long before the flames ignited the gaatlok, but we couldn't let that happen. In an uncontrolled explosion, some material could survive and float to shore. Worse, some of _us_ could make it to shore. The fireballs meant Gatt and his allies were dead or captured. Unopposed, a pack of Vints could easily mop up scattered swimmers, and not all of us had been readied for capture.

Nothing could be left to chance.

"We haven't failed yet, kadan." My smile was supposed to be reassuring, though his face said my lips hadn't made the right shape. He mouthed something that looked like _Oh, Maker_ before coughing again. But his hands remembered their place in the Qun, and he was already packing his bundle next to mine. The tamassrans knew what they were doing, sending him.

These bundles were simple things. Each held a different powder. Combined, the powders spat out a hot, white flame, bright enough to leave spots: ataash-lok. A cord hung off the side of each bag, along the grain, so it would tear off quickly. They had to be positioned just right, to burn cleanly through the floor and into the first gaatlok charges. We had practiced many times.

This was what I was selected to do, the fulfillment of my role. _Victory is in the Qun._

I pushed down a wave of cold nausea, and we yanked off the cords. _So this is what victory feels like._

\---

As they stood with their men, Lavellan turned toward Hissrad. "When the dreadnought sinks-"

"Sinks? Qunari dreadnoughts don't sink."

**Author's Note:**

> http://dragonage.wikia.com/wiki/Codex_entry:_Letters_and_Replies


End file.
